


I need you

by judithandronicus



Series: Judith's Fluffy Kinktober 2020 [7]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Crying, Dean Winchester Wears Panties, Declarations Of Love, Dom/sub Undertones, Feelings, Fluff, Flufftober, Flufftober 2020, Gentle Dom Castiel (Supernatural), Kneeling, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-14
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:14:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27007900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/judithandronicus/pseuds/judithandronicus
Summary: Cas kisses with the syrupy languor of someone who’s watched mountains rise from the sea and crumble back into nothing without blinking. Unyielding and relentless in his softness, unwilling to allow Dean’s desperation to set the pace for what happens next.  Just a delicate press of those chapped pink lips, torturous in its restraint.A multi chapter prompt-fic for Flufftober.Chapter 1, Flufftober fill for "clenched fists," day 12.Chapter 2, Flufftober fill for Possibilities and Whispers, day 13-14.Chapter 3, Flufftober fill for "always," day 16.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Series: Judith's Fluffy Kinktober 2020 [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1951795
Comments: 8
Kudos: 52
Collections: Flufftober2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was actually supposed to be a ficlet about spanking and lingerie, but it veered. A lot.  
>  **Note** : The rating may change if I can ever get these two to stop having feelings.

“Dean.”

Castiel pins him in place with that look, with how he growls his name. Dean knows he’s in trouble, knows what’s about to happen, and it sends a jolt of electricity down his spine.

“Yeah, Cas?” Dean flashes a cocky grin up at the angel. He knows he’s digging himself deeper now, but sometimes that’s just how it is. He’s in the mood to misbehave, to be put in his place. Cas lifts an eyebrow and tilts his head to the side, just _staring_ at Dean—through him, even—and _fuck_. With just a _look,_ Castiel demolishes that protective barrier, sends that cocky exterior crumbling into a heap of rubble atDean’s knees. This isn’t just a game, isn’t just sex. Not tonight. Dean squirms under the intensity of it, ducks his head down in a futile attempt to escape the heat of Castiel’s gaze.

Cas cards strong fingers through Dean’s hair, soft and gentle enough to make Dean purr, then immediately changes tactics, tugging so roughly that Dean has no recourse but to take it, to look back up into those ice-blue eyes.

“What did I tell you, beloved?” Cas asks, his voice barely more than a whisper.

It takes a moment or three for Dean to remind his tongue, now leaden in his throat, that it can move. He swallows thickly, eyes locked on Castiel’s plush lower lip. He gulps in a ragged breath.

“Th-that I…uh, that I have to—“ he can’t finish it. Dean fights against Castiel’s grip on his hair, struggles to break loose so that he can look away. Anywhere else, anywhere but that piercing, disappointed blue gaze.

“Dean,” Castiel prods, more gently this time, “ _tell_ me. What were you supposed to do?”

Dean chews idly on his lower lip, clears his throat, then swallows. Deep breath in, full breath out. “You told me not to take unnecessary risks. N-not to put myself in harm’s way.” His lower lip is trembling now, and he has to stop. Take another shaky breath.

Castiel can tell that he’s struggling, can read Dean like a goddamn book, because that rough grip in his hair has turned soft again. Soothing. Nimble fingers slide through his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp, curling around the back of his head to hold Dean in place as Castiel leans down to press gentle kisses to his forehead. “Keep going,” Cas tells him, kissing the command into Dean’s skin, “why did I ask this of you?”

Unshed tears stinging his eyes, blurring his vision as Dean stutters, “You told me to remember that I…that I was p-p-precious.” He doesn’t believe it, _can’t_ believe it of himself, not after all he’s done. Dean’s a mess, _knows_ that about himself, a quivering mess of mistakes and guilt and cheap whiskey stuffed inside a meatsuit cobbled together by scar tissue. Dean’s not precious, he’s _not,_ and after everything he’s done to Cas over the years, he doesn’t understand how he can think that, much less _say_ it to Dean like it’s some sort of gospel truth.

The tears aren’t unshed any more.

Cas slides his thumb across Dean’s cheek, catching one mid-fall, “You are. You are so very precious to me, beloved, and it breaks my heart that you can’t see yourself as I do.”

Dean sniffles, pathetically, unable to come up with a suitably self-deprecating response.

“I’m glad you’re safe, Dean.” Cas drops another kiss to the spot between Dean’s brows, then ducks down further so that he can rest his own forehead against Dean’s. “It terrifies me when you put yourself in danger like that. Please don’t do it so carelessly.” Castiel’s voice breaks on the last sentence, and it startles Dean. He looks up into Castiel’s eyes, and is shocked to find them red-rimmed, welling up with tears of his own. “ _Please_ ,” Cas begs, as a single tear begins to trail down his cheek, “I need you.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean’s not sure how it happened, how they ended up here, both their faces wet with tears. Cas is kneeling now, too, on his knees before Dean, large hands cupping Dean’s jaw, their foreheads still pressed together. 
> 
> It was just supposed to be a scene, but…but then it veered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the little ficlet chapter that was supposed to be spanking. And, uh...it veered again. More feelings.
> 
> Flufftober prompt fills for Days 13 and 14: whispers and possibilities.

Dean’s not sure how it happened, how they ended up _here_ , both their faces wet with tears. Cas is kneeling now, too, on his knees before Dean, large hands cupping Dean’s jaw, their foreheads still pressed together.

It was just supposed to be a scene, but…but then it veered.

They were both so keyed up from the hunt, hearts pounding and adrenaline coursing through their veins, and they have the bunker to themselves for a change. But it veered…into emotions and possibilities, into something else, something more important for them both.

_I need you._

Dean’s said those words before, to Cas, and he knows _exactly_ what he meant by them.

The elephant in the room, if you will, That Which Cannot Be Said. Well, at least that’s what it means for an emotionally constipated fuckwit like himself, anyway. Cas ain’t like that. He calls Dean “beloved,” for fuck’s sake. _Beloved,_ just says it, easy as breathing, the same way that Dean calls him “Angel.” And Cas has spoken the actual words once before, and Dean threw them away. Cas said he loved him, and Dean just let them sit there, hanging in the air until they dissolved into nothing but regret. The look on Cas’ face as he watched Dean’s silence is seared into the back of Dean’s eyelids, right there where he can never forget it. It’s there with every other moment Dean’s let Castiel down, waiting until he tries to rest to remind him of his failings.

But somehow, Cas still loves him, still sees something good inside Dean. Something worth saving, something worthy of his love, something _precious_ , and it’s terrifying. Awe-inspiring. And Dean loves him right back, loves him so much it hurts, even if, for some reason, he just can’t make those words leave his mouth. Dean Winchester loves Castiel, former Angel of the Lord, with all his goddamned heart. Even if he hasn’t actually said it.

But…in his own way, he _has._ And what Cas just said? _I need you._ Well, that shows that Cas knows it. Doesn’t it?

“Y-you know what that—“ Dean starts, “I mean…uh, when I said… _that_ …” His cheeks are flushed, and somehow, even though he’s been kneeling here in nothing but a pair of cheap lace panties for the past half hour, suddenly feels completely exposed. “You know what that, shit—what _you_ , mean to me, dontcha, Cas?”

Castiel caresses the base of Dean’s skull with a featherlight touch. “Yes, Dean. I do.” He slides a fingertip underneath Dean’s chin and guides it up, so that he can look Dean straight in the eye. “I love you, too.

Collapsing into a crumpled heap on the floor, only vaguely aware of the cold, hard concrete against his naked skin, Dean doesn’t even try to hold back the sob. It’s loud and ugly and painful and raw, the sound that rips from his throat, shaking his whole body as it tears its way out. But Cas is there in an instant, strong arms wrapped around his torso, holding him upright as he trembles against the solid heat of Castiel’s body. Cas slides a broad palm up and down Dean’s spine, soothing him, mouthing a grumbled litany of Enochian into the flesh of Dean’s temple, his ear, the harsh scrape of Castiel’s stubble against his own jaw a grounding reminder that this is real. That this is _real_ , and Cas is here, holding him and soothing him and loving him and it’s enough to make Dean want to die, so that he can live forever in this moment. In the comforting _completeness_ of Castiel’s arms.

Dean buries his face into the crook of Castiel’s neck, inhales that familiar ozone and sea-salt scent of him, wets his flesh with saltwater tears. He gulps in a ragged breath, nuzzling even closer into Castiel’s embrace, and lets go, lets the words that have been trapped inside his throat for so long fly free. “Love you, Angel.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas kisses with the syrupy languor of someone who’s watched mountains rise from the sea and crumble back into nothing without blinking. Unyielding and relentless in his softness, unwilling to allow Dean’s desperation to set the pace for what happens next. Just a delicate press of those chapped pink lips, torturous in its restraint.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Flufftober fill for day 16: "always"

Cas kisses with the syrupy languor of someone who’s watched mountains rise from the sea and crumble back into nothing without blinking. Unyielding and relentless in his softness, unwilling to allow Dean’s desperation to set the pace for what happens next.Just a delicate press of those chapped pink lips, torturous in its restraint. Dean’s hard in his panties, the tip of his cock starting to chafe against the scratchy, cheap lace. Like the rest of Dean, every other molecule of his being, his dick is straining to get closer to Cas, to feel the solid heat of Castiel’s body.

Dean’s pretty sure he’s going mad from it, losing himself in a tsunami of pure want.

And yet, Cas continues to deny him. Refuses, beyond that one connection at their lips, to give him the touch he so craves. Dean presses himself forward, but somehow, he can’t breach the distance; it’s like there’s an invisible wall that keeps him just a hair’s breadth away from feeling Castiel’s body against his own.

Dean needs to touch him, to be touched, more than he’s ever needed anything, but Cas won’t let him have it. Damn angel mojo.

“ _Cas,_ ” he whines against Castiel’s mouth, his voice reedy and pathetic. “Come _on._ ” Castiel’s lips move against his mouth so that Dean feels, rather than sees, the smile.

Damn asshole angel.

Dean takes advantage of that opening, and slips his tongue between Castiel’s parted lips, explores the topography of his mouth. Curls his tongue and drags the tip along with ridges of his palate, pulls a gravelly moan from somewhere deep in Castiel’s throat. Dean’s cock twitches at the rumble of it, his hips thrust forward, and the motion is enough to remind Dean that he’s kneeling on the concrete floor. The ache in his knees is a minor inconvenience, though, in the face of his angel groaning into his mouth.

“ _Please,_ Cas.” He’s not sure what he’s asking for, but he trusts that Cas will give it to him. Castiel will always give him what he needs.

Maybe it’s the way Dean looks at him, green eyes glassy and heavy lidded; maybe it’s the way Dean’s whole body is trembling from their kiss; maybe it’s the way his usually deep voice cracks, has broken into a wispy of a thing as he begs. Whatever it is, Dean doesn’t know, but it works; it resonates on the right angelic frequency to flip that switch in Castiel’s brain, and now it’s all Dean can do to hang on for the ride.

One second he’s kneeling there with Castiel just beyond his reach, the next, Cas is standing, those broad hands cradling Dean’s ass as Dean wraps himself around Cas, hooking his feet at the small of Castiel’s back, carding his hands through those thick, untamed curls, pulling Castiel’s mouth impossibly closer to his own. Dean clenches his glutes, rocks in Castiel’s tight grip, and is rewarded with the hot press of the angel’s burgeoning erection against his crotch. It’s good, _so_ good, to feel the effect he’s having on Cas, but he needs more.

Dean slides one hand between them, intending to unbuckle Castiel’s belt, to slip inside his trousers. But before he can, Cas squeezes his ass, pulling him even closer, trapping that hand uselessly between their bodies as he carries Dean… _somewhere_. He’s not sure which was is up, to be honest, not with Cas kissing him like that, those perfect pink lips bruising against his own, that sure tongue fucking his mouth the way Dean desperately wants to be fucked, to be filled in every possible way.

And then he’s falling.

It’s disorienting, the way it happens so fast, going from being secure in Castiel’s arms to free fall. It only takes a matter of seconds for him to land, safe, on the bed, but those seconds stretch out into an eternity. Like Hell, the way time dilates into an unbearable forever when Cas isn’t touching him. Desperate for Castiel’s touch, driven mad with need, Dean whimpers.

“ _Cas._ ”

“Shh, Dean, I’m here,” Cas soothes, “I’m not going anywhere.” He punctuates what he says with action, with the warm comfort of his lithe body draped over Dean, the solid weight of him pressing Dean securely into the memory foam. Cas strokes a fingertip down the side of Dean’s face, catches the saltwater spill of a tear where it’s broken free from the corner of his eye. He kisses the space between Dean’s furrowed brows until, gasping at the surprise of it, Dean feels tension in the muscles dissolve. He didn’t realize he’d been scowling.

“Need you, angel,” he whispers, nuzzling the tip of his nose against Castiel’s, “need to feel you inside me.” Cas’ face goes all soft at his plea, the corners of his lips curving just the slightest bit up in a small, quiet smile. _His Dean smile_ , Dean can’t help but preen at the knowledge of it.

“Of course, beloved.”


End file.
